The Secrets of Palmerston House

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The Secrets of Palmerston House Page 27

by Phillipa Nefri Clark


  Light surrounded Christie. Thomas was there, his hand outstretched, eyes frantic.

  Somehow she was on her feet.

  Thomas was ahead now and she held the back of his shirt, tears coursing down her face, hair loose and sticking to her skin.

  By the narrow light of his torch, they went around yet another corner.

  The sea was ahead. An open cave. A sky not quite dark, pink and gold ribbons suggesting everything was normal.

  Thomas stopped. Christie bumped into him, then laid her head against his strong back, her heart broken. She’d seen.

  At the entry of the cave, silhouetted by the light of a lantern, a man lay on his side.

  Christie’s knees buckled and she fell. Charlotte straightened from a crouch beside the fallen man to come to her. From nowhere, Trev appeared at the cave entrance, attached to a rope.

  Thomas reached down and touched her face. “It’s over.”

  Why did he smile?

  Now, her eyes couldn’t see. Only blurred images. Charlotte hugged her. “Come on, are you okay?”

  She wasn’t okay.

  How could she be okay?

  Warmth surrounded Christie. Warm, strong, comforting arms enfolded her, lifted her, and carried her to the entrance. She was gently lowered onto a firm, familiar lap. Sea breezes lifted her hair from her forehead and she rubbed her eyes.

  “Sweetheart, Belinda will have to redo your make-up.” Martin pressed her against his chest, his heart pounding. Alive.

  Chapter Forty-three

  “I have no idea what you did you spoil all my lovely work, but at least I know how to fix things.” Belinda threw her arms around Christie. “Even in this dressing-gown you look fantastic, so imagine how splendorous you will be in your actual wedding dress. And this time, you will stay in it until after the ceremony.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Christie giggled, perhaps from the half empty glass of champagne or possibly the after effects of the earlier events. Either way, she wanted Belinda to hurry up and make her presentable so she could go and marry Martin.

  “Finish the champagne. I’m surprised it’s still cold, but then again, Lance is pretty good at this catering stuff. Not quite up to Mum’s standard, but not bad. Now, seeing as you are in a vulnerable state, I shall take advantage and cover your eyelids with glitter.”

  “Glitter away.”

  Belinda powdered Christie’s face until they both coughed. “Okay, that’ll cover the teary stuff. How much did you actually cry?”

  “Too much.” Charlotte wandered in with her own glass of champagne. “He was never at risk, your handsome man. Martin is so brave and very, very confident.”

  Christie took Charlotte’s hand. “I’m so happy you’re safe.”

  “Bernie has some issues. I mean, a smart person doesn’t load a century plus old pistol and fire it at a passing boat. When the whole thing exploded he was lucky it only knocked him off his feet, not over the edge.”

  “And Martin was right there to tie him up. Close your eyes, please.” Belinda was armed with a palette of eye colour.

  “Hurry. I need to get married. What is the time?”

  “Not midnight so you’ll be fine,” Charlotte laughed. “your guests are amazing. Although I am hearing talk of a movie. About tonight. Apparently there are not only producers and directors in the crowd, but screenwriters.”

  Christie groaned. “I’ll ask Ashley to speak to them.”

  “He’s the one behind it all,” Belinda announced. “Okay, you’ll have to do. But don’t let anyone credit me for this lot of make-up. There’s only so much a professional can do.”

  When Christie opened her eyes, it was straight into the mirror. There was no sign of the tears she’d shed before and after Martin took her in his arms in the cave, no sign of the deep lines of worry she thought would never go. Her eyes were bright and excited. But her hair was now loose and curling around the flower crown which somehow included fresh strands of jasmine.

  “I adore you, sweet Belinda. Thank you for more than the make-up, little cousin-in-law.” She kissed Belinda’s cheek and reached for her glass but Belinda grabbed it first.

  “Not now. You have perfect lipstick and I am actually quite over fixing you up. So be a good bride, stay in your dress, with your outstanding hair and make-up, and get married.”

  “Aren’t you my bridesmaid? Shouldn’t you be letting people know I’m on my way?” Christie grinned as Belinda tore out of the door. Then she turned to Charlotte and took both her hands. “Thank you.”

  “Whatever for? If I hadn’t shouted out at the cliff, you’d already be Mrs Blake.”

  “And you’d be lost.”

  Charlotte took a deep breath. “Trev would have found me. Eventually.”

  “I thought he’d cry when he found you. Charlotte, he—”

  “No. Don’t say it, please don’t.”

  “But you know it’s true. And I see it in your eyes.”

  “You know, tonight is about you and Martin. And I will dance with Trevor and who knows. Maybe the incredible love in this town, between you and Martin, Thomas and Martha, John and Daphne... and if I’m not mistaken, Angus and Elizabeth—”

  “You’re not mistaken.”

  “Perhaps even Barry and Sylvia?”

  “It sounds like River’s End is filled with love stories.”

  Charlotte handed Christie the champagne flute. “I won’t tell.”

  “Nor will I. But at some point, you need to talk to Trev. He deserves that.”

  “Come on, child. Let’s take you to your groom.” From the doorway, Angus extended his hand.

  ***

  “Love weaves a web of magic around those it touches, heightening the senses, reawakening long forgotten dreams.”

  Under the starry sky, amongst the most patient and understanding friends and family imaginable, Christie and Martin faced each other beneath the flowered arch, their hands entwined.

  “It unites two people, two individuals of independent thought and action...”

  The pond was a shimmering surface reflecting the moon. The guests barely moved, many of them holding hands with the person at their side.

  “...giving them the desire, and the courage, to share their lives.” Daphne paused for effect.

  These moments were beyond precious.

  “Learning about the other, learning about themselves. Developing trust and understanding.”

  Martin mouthed, “I trust you.”

  Against her will, tears of joy filled Christie’s eyes. She whispered, “I understand you.”

  When Martin raised an eyebrow, happiness bubbled over and she giggled.

  Daphne stared at her quite solemnly and Christie grasped Martin’s hands more tightly.

  “Ahem. The enchantment of love can be kept vital and strong by nurturing each other through sadness and difficult times.”

  And kidnapping and sinking of yachts. It must be a reaction to the events of the day but Christie wanted to laugh and burst into song and dance around the pond. She was certain Martin would not approve so reined herself in. This was, after all, her one and only wedding.

  Daphne continued, unaware of Christie’s almost overwhelming need to take the vows she’d written herself and turn them into a love song. Martin understood. His eyes steadied her but with humour. He did understand her. Love her. But she was never allowed to be in danger again.

  “Love is the final challenge, ongoing and ever-changing. A wonderful partnership that offers happiness. When simply being together is enough. And a shared smile means more than the answers of the universe.”

  The universe was finally in step with this wonderful night. Above, the velvet sky was covered in diamond stars and when she stole a glance Christie recognised Vela and Carina. A soft breeze rippled across the pond and Christie suddenly knew her parents would always watch over her. There would be no more fear or holding back.

  “To be cherished and respected, and knowing that laughter is the purest gift o
f all... Martin, Christie, this is the love your marriage celebrates.”

  Randall trotted onto the platform and sat between Christie and Martin, his tail wagging as he looked from one to the other. There were muffled giggles from the guests, then Daphne’s mouth quivered and all of a sudden, everybody was laughing.

  ***

  Palmerston House was ablaze with lights and filled with music and laughter. Outside, the path to the pond was covered with confetti and lit by only the fairy lights. Trev and Charlotte wandered toward the pond, not touching, not speaking. They found the bench against the old tree and sat.

  Trev extended his hand and, after a moment, Charlotte placed her hand in his. The warmth radiated through him, a tiny taste of what might be. But tonight belonged to Christie and Martin Blake, without doubt the happiest couple he’d ever known.

  “They deserve it.”

  “The newlyweds?” Charlotte nodded. “They are relishing every second.”

  “Had some doubts about the wedding going ahead. When I heard the shot ring out...”

  “Gave us a scare in the cave. Bernie was waving the gun around for ages and then he spotted the boat and before Martin could reach him, sort-of aimed and fired.”

  “The paramedics said he’ll be okay. Hand is pretty messed up though.”

  Charlotte gazed out at the water. Trev watched her. What are you thinking?

  Eventually, she looked at him, her face serious. “I can’t do this.”

  “Do what.”

  She squeezed his hand.

  Disappointment replaced the glimmer of earlier hope. “Charlie, I thought I’d lost you—”

  “You never will. But I have stuff to figure out. Family stuff.”

  “You’re leaving.”

  “I’m... yes. Your mother thinks I’m perfect to work with her for a while. See what happens. I love books.”

  “River’s End doesn’t have a bookshop. What about opening one here?”

  Plant a seed, let it grow into whatever it will be. Nurture it, because one day you’ll want its shade and shelter. He’d planted the seed of opportunity, watered it, cared for it. Now he wanted to take it all back.

  “Nice thought, but Trev, your mother needs help. I can help her.”

  “I might need to visit her more often.”

  Charlie’s smile broke through the pain in his heart and she touched his face. “I think you should.” She leaned toward him and kissed his lips, just a touch.

  He drew her against him and she rested her head on his shoulder. She isn’t saying goodbye. He was patient. She was worth it.

  ***

  Christie sat at the top of the staircase, swaying slightly to the music as she watched the guests dance and mingle. She’d taken off her shoes and they were on the floor behind her. The exhaustion in her bones was creeping back and her thigh hurt where she’d hit the rocks in the tunnel. But her heart was full and she’d remember the last few hours for her whole life.

  Martha and Thomas danced slowly, eyes on each other. It wasn’t long ago this was their reception, a time Christie knew she loved Martin but was convinced he didn’t feel the same.

  “I think you’ll need this.” Martin dropped onto the step beside Christie, holding out a crisp, white handkerchief.

  She viewed it with suspicion. “Why?”

  “Always a question. Because you cry a lot. And because I had a whole lot made for you.” He unfolded the fabric to reveal the initials C. B. in one corner. “Okay?”

  “Oh thank you! I needed it earlier.”

  “Nothing bad happened to me, sweetheart.”

  “Right. You always disappear just before your own wedding. Climb down a dangerous cliff and only partly with a rope. And refuse to do what the man with the gun tells you.”

  “I don’t do as I’m told.”

  “You’re a married man now.”

  “And?” Martin ran his hand down Christie’s spine, sending a delicious shiver through her body from head to toe.

  “I love you.”

  “Good answer.” He kissed her lips lightly. “Shall we have one more dance?”

  “And then?”

  “And then, Mrs Blake, I intend to take you home. To our home.”

  The promise in his eyes spilt tears from hers and with a smile, he gently used the handkerchief to dry them.

  Randall bounded up the stairs and stood there looking at them, mouth open in something like a doggie smile.

  “Hello, dog.” Martin held his hand out to pat him, but Randall lay down on the step beneath Christie. “I knew this would happen.”

  “He still loves you.”

  “I’m a dismal third on his list of people. But at least I married the one who is first.”

  “Oh. That’s why you married me?”

  “Yes.”

  Christie climbed onto Martin’s lap. “The only reason?”

  His arms tightened around her. “You smell nice. Really nice. And cook well.”

  “You cook better. In fact, you should do all the cooking.”

  “Then you’ll have to grow everything I cook in the fancy new hothouse John and Daphne gave us.”

  “So, I smell nice, can grow stuff, and the dog loves me.”

  “People marry for a lot less— ouch!”

  “Sorry, did my elbow accidentally poke your ribcage?”

  “You used to be so nice.”

  “We’re married now. You’ll get to see the real me.” She giggled.

  Martin raised her chin and held it. His dark eyes reflected her love. “I’ve known the real you since the first time we met, Christabel Blake. I love you now and forever, and I think we might miss the dance and go home now.”

  “I am home, Martin. Wherever you and Randall are, I’m home.”

  Her heart was held within his. Forever.

  Christie and Martin’s Wedding Ceremony

  Love weaves a web of magic around those it touches

  Heightening the senses, reawakening long forgotten dreams

  It unites two people

  Two individuals of independent thought and action

  Giving them the desire and the courage to share their lives

  Learning about the other

  Learning about themselves

  Developing trust and understanding

  The enchantment of love can be kept vital and strong

  By nurturing each other, through sadness and difficult times

  Offering and accepting compassion

  Taking the first step, when sometimes it is the hardest to make

  Being ready to listen and talk without reservation or judgement

  And remembering with joy and humour those early days in love

  Love is the final challenge, ongoing and ever-changing

  A wonderful partnership that offers happiness

  When simply being together is enough

  And a shared smile means more than the answers of the universe

  To be cherished and respected

  And knowing that laughter is the purest gift of all

  This is the love that marriage celebrates

  Phillipa Nefri Clark 1990

  OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES

  The Stationmaster's Cottage

  Jasmine Sea

  The Christmas Key

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  Phillipa grew up along lonely Australian beaches with wild seas and misty cliffs. From a young age she wrote stories and dreamed of becoming an author.

  Now living in regional Victoria, Australia on a small acreage close to a mountain range, Phillipa's great loves - apart from writing - are her family of two young adult
sons and her husband, their Labrador, music, fine wine, and friends.

  Phillipa is a member of Romance Writers of Australia and Romance Readers Association Australia.

 

 

 


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